Black Notice - Cornwell Patricia (читать книги онлайн без TXT) 📗

"Maybe he hoped he could start over and stop killing," Mirot said.

"Don't happen like that," Marino said.

"There's no mention of any evidence being turned into any labs;" I said as I began to feel the chill of the dark place where this was headed. "I don't understand. Wasn't anything tested for in these cases? Swabs for body fluids? Hairs, fibers, a torn fingernail? Anything?"

Mirot glanced at his watch.

"Not even fingerprints?" I said, incredulous.

Mirot got out of his chair.

"Agent Talley, will you please take our guests to our cafeteria for lunch?" he said. "I'm afraid I can't join you."

Mirot walked us to the door уf his formidable office.

"I must thank you again for coming," he said to Marino and me. "I realize your work-is just beginning; but hopefully in a direction that will soon lay this terrible matter to rest. Or at least strike a blow that will bring it to its knees.., His secretary pushed a button on the phone.

"Undersecretary Arvin, are you there?" she said to whoever was on hold. "I can conference you now?"

Mirot nodded at her. He returned to his office and softly shut the door.

"You didn't call us all the way over here just to review these cases," I said to Talley as he led us through a confusion of hallways.

"Let me show you something," he said.

He directed us around a comer, where we were confronted by a ghastly portrait gallery of dead faces.

"Corpse to Be Identified," Talley said. "Black notices."

The posters were in grainy black and white and included fingerprints and other identifying characteristics. All of the information was written in English, French, Spanish and Arabic, and it was obvious that most of the nameless individuals had not died peacefully.

"Recognize yours?" Talley pointed at the most recent addition.

Fortunately, my unidentified case's grotesque face did not stare out at us, but instead the notice displayed an unexciting dental chart and fingerprints and a narrative.

"Other than the posters, Interpol is a paperless organization," Talley explained.

He walked us to an elevator.,

"Paper files are electronically scanned into our mainframe; kept for a limited period of time, then destroyed."

He pushed a button for the first floor.

"Better hope the Y two-K bug don't get you," Marino said.

Talley smiled.

Outside the cafeteria, suits of armor and a rampant brass eagle guarded all who patronized it. Tables were crowded with several hundred men and women in business dress, all police who had come here from around the world to combat various organized criminal activities ranging from stolen credit cards and forgery in the U.S. to bank numbers involving cocaine trafficking in Africa. Talley and I selected roasted chicken and salad. Marino went after the barbecued ribs.

We settled into a corner.

"The secretary general usually doesn't get directly involved like this," Talley let us know. "Just so you get an idea of the importance."

"I guess we're supposed tу feel honored," Marino said.

Talley cut off a bite of chicken and kept the fork in the same hand, European style.

"I don't want us to be blinded by how much we want this unidentified body to be Thomas Chandonne;" Talley went on.

"Yeah, sure would be embarrassing if you took the black notice out of your fancy computer and then guess what? Turns out the son of a bitch ain't dead and Loup-Garou's just some local fruit loop who keeps on killing. No relationship between the two," Marino said. "Maybe Interpol loses some of its membership fees, huh?"

"Captain Marino, this is not about membership fees," Talley said with a dead-on stare. "I know you've worked many, many difficult cases in your career. You know how all-consuming they can be. We need to free up our people to work other crimes. We need to bring down the people shielding this dirtbag. We need to destroy the hell out of all of them."

He pushed away his tray without finishing his food. He slid a pack of cigarettes out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

"That's one thing nice about Europe," he smiled. "Bad for your health but not antisocial."

"Well, let me ask you this," Marino kept going. "If it's not about membership fees, then who pays for all this shit? Learjets, Concordes, ritzy hotels, not to mention Mercedes cabs?•.

"Many of the taxis over here are Mercedes."

"We prefer beat-up Chevies and Fords back home," Marino said sarcastically. "You know, buy American."

"Interpol isn't in the habit of supplying Learjets and luxury hotels," Talley said.

"Then who did?"

"I guess you can ask Senator Lord all about that," Talley replied. "But let me remind you of something. Organized crime is all about money, and most of this money comes from honest people, honest businesses and corporations who want to run these cartels out of business as badly as we do."

Marino's jaw muscles were flexing.

"I can only suggest that for a Fortune Five Hundred company to buy a couple of Concorde tickets isn't much to ask if millions of dollars of electronic equipment or even guns and explosives are being diverted."

"Then some Microsoft-company-type paid for all this?" Marino asked.

Talley's patience was being tried. He didn't answer him.

"I'm asking you. I want to know who paid for my ticket. I want to know who the hell went through my suitcase. Some Interpol agent?" Marino persisted.

"Interpol doesn't have agents. It has liaisons from various law enforcement agencies. ATF, FBI, the postal service, police departments. and so on."

"Yeah, right. Just like the CIA doesn't snuff people."

"For God's sake, Marino," I said.

"I want to know who fucking went through my suitcase," Marino said as his face turned a deeper red. "That pisses me off more than anything has in a hell of a long time."

"I can see that;" Talley replied. "Maybe you should complain to the Paris police. But my guess is, if they had anything to do with it, it was for your own good. In the event you might have brought a gun over here, for example?"

Marino didn't say anything. He picked through what was left of his ribs.

"You didn't;" I said to him in disbelief.

"If someone isn't familiar with international travel, well, innocent mistakes can be made;" Talley added. "Especially American police who are used to carrying guns everywhere and perhaps don't understand what serious trouble they could get into over here."

Still, Marino was silent.

"I suspect the only motivation was to prevent any inconveniences for either of you," Talley added, tapping an ash.

"All right, all right," Marino grumbled.

"Dr. Scarpetta," Talley then said, "are you familiar with our magistrate system over here?"

"Enough to know that I'm glad we don't have one in Virginia."

"The magistrate's appointed. for life. The forensic pathologist is appointed by the magistrate, and it's the magistrate who decides what evidence is submitted to the labs and even what the manner of death is;" Talley explained.

"Like our coroner system at its worst," I said. "Whenever politics and votes are involved-"

"Power," Talley cut in. "Corruption. Politics and criminal investigation should never be in the same room."

"But they are. All the time, Agent Talley. Maybe even here, in your organization," I said.

"Interpol?" He seemed to find this very amusing. "There's really no motivation for Interpol to do the wrong thing, as sanctimonious as that might sound. We don't take credit. We don't want publicity, cars, guns or uniforms; we don't fight over jurisdictions. We have a surprisingly small budget for what we do. To most people we don't even exist."

"You say this we shit like you're one of them," Marino commented. "I'm confused. One minute you're ATF, the next minute you're a secret squirrel."